Chapter 31

Chapter 31

The three-day advance reservation was a decision Zhu Mingli made after careful consideration. On the first and second days, she could gauge customer traffic to better arrange staffing and preparation; on the third day, they would start at dawn, delivering one batch the day before the Double Ninth Festival and another on the day itself, to avoid any last-minute rush. As the weather turned cold and time was short, there was no fear of the cakes spoiling.

This was the most important event since the pastry shop opened, and every available maid was put to work.

As soon as the poster board with the words "Pre-order Now" was put up, the shopkeeper readied himself for a dry throat. Sure enough, the wealthy citizens of Chang'an, still in the throes of their novelty-seeking frenzy, were instantly drawn to the poster as soon as they arrived to buy pastries.

Pointing at the "Five-Bamboo Cake," one asked, "Is this a new product?"

The shopkeeper smiled quickly. "Yes, my esteemed guest. If you'd like to try it or buy it as a Double Ninth pastry, you can place a pre-order now. We'll deliver it to your residence on the day itself or the day before."

"What kind of cakes are these, and how much do they cost?"

The shopkeeper explained each one. Curious onlookers, potential buyers, and those commenting on the poster crowded in. As the crowd grew, more people pushed in, asking, "What's going on up front?" A bustling shop only becomes more bustling—it's the herd mentality at work.

A servant who had been queuing to buy bread had a sudden idea and hurried back to report to his master.

Meanwhile, at the workshop in the countryside, they had started early, sawing bamboo and assembling bamboo boxes from dawn till dusk. The mistress had said payment would be by piece, and such work was rare, so they made as many as they could.

The craftsmen of the Shen residence, who were used to leisurely service, hadn't seen such hard work in years. But thinking of the workers' backgrounds, they could only sigh and teach them earnestly.

An armless soldier sawed vigorously, finishing a bamboo pole in the blink of an eye.

His blind old mother worked alongside him. When a bamboo tube fell from the basket, she groped for it, picked it up, and washed it in a vat.

A craftsman walked over. "Hey, you—"

The old woman trembled and quickly said, "I washed my hands!" Afraid that her uselessness might drag her son down, she rushed to explain, "I can feel the tubes while washing. If there are splinters, I'll have A-Sheng smooth them out. I used to do embroidery—my hands are sensitive."

Seeing the armless soldier stop and look at him anxiously, the craftsman sighed. "I was just going to tell you to find a stool to sit on while washing."

These two mother and son shared only one portion of food. The craftsman feared they might collapse from exhaustion, causing trouble for the mistress.

The pair sighed in relief and quickly declined. The craftsman shook his head and went back to supervising.

Once he left, they immediately resumed working hard. The more they did, the more they earned. The mistress was kind; she wouldn't bother to deceive a blind person and a disabled person. As for food, having any at all was already a blessing. If they were given two portions for no reason, it would only make them uneasy.

Now, earning their keep by hard work—this was good.

Chang'an had many poor people like them, but also plenty who were filthy rich.

On the first day, the number of pre-orders was within the shopkeeper's expectations. However, on the second day, the volume suddenly surged. He and his granddaughter A-Qing were so busy writing down names and orders that they had to have customers form a long queue.

Fortunately, the young cook leading the team had been given the mistress's "contingency plan" before the event. If this happened, they were to spare no expense and give customers some cookies as compensation, which indeed soothed the crowd.

On the third day, some who heard about Zhen Meiwei's pre-orders rushed over to check, only to find the shop closed!

Of course—if limited editions weren't limited and didn't require queuing, what would be the point?

Another reason was that the young cooks were overwhelmed; even the bread ovens were nearly burnt out.

The day before the Double Ninth Festival, they stopped making all other sweet pastries. All hands were dedicated to crafting and assembling the cakes. The bamboo boxes produced from the workshop had already been transported into the city and stored in the house for use.

The young cooks on night duty got up for their first shift. No need to skimp on oil for the lamps; they lit them fully and worked swiftly.

Batch after batch of cake bases came out of the oven. After their shift ended, the next group of cooks got up to work—whipping cream, frosting, placing decorations… each took their post, creating an assembly line in the backyard.

The small workshop at the Shen residence was also working efficiently. By noon, the fourth batch of young cooks had finished all the cakes ordered for the day, and deliveries began in the afternoon.

This task wasn't too tiring for the maids; the household servants of the Shen residence could finally take part in something important. Seven servants with pleasant faces and quick wits rode donkey carts, weaving through Chang'an's wards to deliver goods.

The work didn't require much strength, but they needed to be literate. Four of the seven were book boys. Since Shen Lingwen was away and Shen Lingheng had gone out to play, they could earn some extra cash on the side without anyone noticing, taking part in the mistress's "grand enterprise."

Two hours later, the first batch was delivered. The cakes for the next day began to be shipped out—a bit at a time. By dusk, only six households had yet to receive theirs.

No matter how tightly they controlled the schedule, they couldn't perfectly align everything.

Fortunately, the mistress had foreseen this situation and given them a solution in the general meeting: Don't worry. As soon as the ward gates open on the Double Ninth Festival morning, split up and deliver by donkey cart—it will be in time.

Households planning to leave early in the morning wouldn't order same-day delivery; they would have had it sent the day before. Those requesting delivery today were probably planning to eat at home.

After all that hustle and bustle, everyone was on edge. Once the deliveries were done, finally, they could relax.

The mistress was considerate—she assigned them no tasks on the Double Ninth Festival itself, letting them rest in the servants' quarters.

While they rested, A-Qing and the shopkeeper couldn't—they had to tally accounts, go through lists, and check numbers. After running a pharmacy for decades, even after taking over the pastry shop and experiencing the bustle, they had never seen accounts as dizzying as those from these three days.

No wonder Chang'an was a city of "fine horses, carved carriages, and fragrant roads." People spared no expense in chasing novelty on ordinary days, and during festivals, they were even more lavish.

The servants who had been working nonstop could rest, but Zhu Mingli, who had rested for several days, began to act.

Early in the morning, the Shen residence was bustling with activity.

Though Zhu Mingli was traveling light, she had taken rare care in dressing up. The younger generation followed suit. The Double Ninth Festival was a time for everyone to go out and enjoy themselves—it was like a big spring outing for them. After years of not participating in such festivities, they were finally able to dispel the gloom.

As for specific plans, they didn't matter; they just had to follow Third Aunt.

After all, the places for mountain climbing near Chang'an were well-known. If not climbing, then sightseeing spots were limited.

Zhu Mingli had no special talent for discovering hidden scenic spots. She simply asked Lv Qi and Jiao Wei where the Zhu family used to go and settled on the same place.

The younger ones got ready quickly; Zhu Mingli was even faster. When they gathered and set off, the sun had barely risen.

As soon as they stepped out, they found the roads were already jammed!

Shen Lingshu immediately grew impatient. She jumped out of the carriage, intending to ride her horse out of the city, but Zhu Mingli called her back: "Get back in the carriage. You can gallop as much as you like on other days, but not today. The roads are full of nobles. What if you bump into someone?"

Shen Lingshu, thwarted, was very unhappy. But what Zhu Mingli said made sense, so she had no choice but to glance at her brother, wanting him to say something in support. Both of them shared the same thought—they wanted to make things difficult for their aunt.

But Shen Lingheng pretended not to notice. Having lost ground a few days ago, he realized that his eloquence was no match for the talented Zhu family. Today, on the main street, if he argued and encountered an acquaintance, it would be embarrassing.

Shen Lingshu's efforts were in vain, so she retreated back into the carriage.

Zhu Mingli wasn't just making things up. The carriage continued forward, and as they approached Zhuque Avenue, they indeed ran into an acquaintance.

The refined, middle-aged man on the tall horse was none other than Cui Jingzhao.

Cui Jingzhao was a beloved official who cared for the people. Since he took over the capital's administration, petty theft in Chang'an had plummeted, and bullying by rich young masters had become rare. He was deeply loved by the people, and many on the road bowed to him.

Cui Jingzhao, naturally, couldn't be cold. He responded with smiles all the way, creating an atmosphere of shared joy with the people.

Thus, the traffic got even more congested.

Zhu Mingli found it hard to bear. She stuck her head out several times, and finally, when the crowd around Cui Jingzhao dispersed a bit, she quickly got off the carriage and walked over.

Cui Jingzhao was already weary before setting out. When he saw Zhu Mingli, he was slightly surprised and was about to greet her when she said, "Cui Jingzhao, you should get into your carriage."

He looked puzzled. Zhu Mingli tilted her head, indicating the congestion behind him. On the Shen family carriage not far away, Shen Lingshu had already started quarreling with Shen Lingheng; their tempers were running high.

Cui Jingzhao thought for a moment, it dawned on him, and he said with a trace of shame: "I didn't think it through."

So he dismounted and climbed back into the carriage.

Zhu Mingli turned to go back when the carriage curtain was lifted, revealing Cui Jingzhao's wife with a gentle, graceful face: "Is this the third young lady of the Shen family? Your holiday gift was thoughtful."

Indeed, while the Shen family's acquaintances were sending gifts, Zhu Mingli had not forgotten her own connections.

All in all, she had only her natal family, the Cui household, and the Yan household to consider; the latter two were valuable social connections worth ingratiating herself with. The gift list was of moderate weight—appropriate for a junior—but she had deliberately slipped in a "VIP card" offering reservations and discounts. It wasn't expensive, but it conveyed a touch of closeness.

Cui Jingzhao's wife was from Jiangnan and had a fondness for delicate sweet cakes; she had a good impression of Zhu Mingli.

Zhu Mingli bowed to her. Just then, the long line of carriages began to move. Seeing this, she did not linger to chat or ingratiate herself but swiftly took her leave and returned to her carriage, which further elevated the Cui couple's opinion of her.

Once on Zhuque Avenue, the traffic finally cleared up, and a grand procession of carriages headed out of the city.

Beyond the city, they took different routes, and there was no more congestion. Shen Lingshu could finally come out of the carriage to ride her horse freely. Zhu Mingli let her be, knowing she would gallop for a while and then come back to urge them to hurry.

Shen Lingyi's temperament was quite different from hers, so even though the Shen household had only two young ladies, their relationship was neither close nor distant.

But perhaps because the entire household rarely went out together, they unconsciously grew a bit closer, and they spoke to one another like ordinary sisters.

"Don't be so impatient—haven't you had enough fun riding on ordinary days?" Shen Lingyi said with a smile.

Shen Lingshu shook her head: "You should learn too; the joy of riding is no less than that of writing or painting."

Shen Lingwen also started chatting with Shen Lingheng, but unlike his sister, Shen Lingheng was not close to his own family. He frowned, with a sulky expression.

"...So I promised Second Young Master Zhang that after we all wear cornel together at the mansion, we can meet up with our classmates. On the Double Ninth Festival, the elders of various households will go out, so we can pay respects to those we encounter and then enjoy ourselves with friends." Shen Lingwen droned on about his plans.

Shen Lingheng, however, had no plans and had not arranged anything with anyone. In their circle, they'd hang out only if they happened to meet; if not, they wouldn't bother seeking one another out. He wondered whether the polo gang would be heading to the same hill.

Each person had their own thoughts, wandering with the crisp autumn air.

When they reached their destination, Zhu Mingli followed custom and gathered everyone to first climb the heights to pick cornel. In earlier dynasties, cornel had strong taboo associations, mostly for "warding off disasters and evil," but now it was more valued for its medicinal properties, serving as an "auspicious" token.

The normally lively younger ones were unusually quiet. On other estates, the Double Ninth Festival might be a joyful affair, but at the Shen residence, the sense of "remembering the departed" was unavoidable.

Not a word was spoken during the climb. Zhu Mingli did not try to lighten the mood, allowing them to sit with that emotion. Emotions deserve an outlet; there must be days when one can indulge in sorrow.

When they reached the summit, the wide view cleared their minds. Gazing into the distance from the heights, the gloom overhead seemed to lift slightly.

Zhu Mingli picked a cornel twig and finally broke the silence: "Wear cornel for good health and long life."

She turned. The nearest person was Shen Lingshu.

Shen Lingshu didn't expect Zhu Mingli to put cornel on her, so she instinctively stepped back half a step to make room for Shen Lingyi.

But Zhu Mingli moved closer and, before she could react, gently pinned the cornel in her hair: "Grow up healthy."

Shen Lingshu stood stunned. Already missing her late mother, this simple blessing hit her hard, and she felt her nose prickle. In the Shen residence, such a blessing was especially precious.

She lowered her head: "Thank you, Aunt."

Zhu Mingli patted her shoulder, then proceeded to place cornel on Shen Lingyi and Shen Lingwen. They were closer to Zhu Mingli and naturally thanked her with smiles.

Shen Lingyi had lost her mother early, but her mood was not as heavy as that of the second branch. She had already regained her composure: "Aunt, may you also enjoy health and long life." With that, she stood on tiptoe and inserted cornel into Zhu Mingli's hair.

Zhu Mingli and Shen Lingyi were close, and Shen Lingshu was not left out. Shen Lingheng stood there looking prickly, feeling like an outsider. If he left, it would be awkward; he thought despairingly, "I might as well just close my eyes and jump off the cliff to escape faster."

Lost in his thoughts, he saw Zhu Mingli looking at him. His whole body tensed, his expression extremely unnatural.

Zhu Mingli knew exactly what he was thinking. She had no intention of isolating Shen Lingheng, so she also placed cornel on him.

Shen Lingheng quietly let out a long breath and, without realizing it, found himself smiling along with everyone else.

"Alright, that's the end of the arranged activities. As for the rest—meeting friends, enjoying the scenery, or resting—you're all free to do as you please. Just remember the time: we must gather together to return to the mansion. Don't be late, and we're not staying overnight outside the capital."

Like a teacher leading an outing, the four of them obediently answered, "Got it," "Understood."

But the timing was awkward. They had gotten up early to wash and prepare, traveled, climbed, and gone through all that, yet it was still before lunchtime, and they were already hungry.

So Zhu Mingli added: "If anyone wants a bite to eat before going off on your own, follow me."

At that, the four behind her followed in a line behind her.

Luckily, Zhu Mingli had come on the outing with little interest in elegance but great interest in food. She had plenty of food, even if she lacked other things.

Cakes and bread could fill the stomach but were not commonly used for lunch. People of the time would bring dried provisions such as Hu cakes, parched grain flour, and dried meat. Portable stoves were essential for boiling tea, warming wine, and heating food.

But Shen Lingyi trusted that her aunt would not settle for a quick, simple meal, so she boldly asked: "Aunt, what are we eating?"

"Mung bean vermicelli."

She walked into a pavilion that had already been set up. A maid had prepared a portable stove with boiling water.

Shen Lingyi approached and looked at the translucent mung bean vermicelli: "How do we eat this?"

"Just soak it in hot water."

This was another sideline item of Zhu Mingli's future workshop—not produced in a food stall, but in a workshop. It could be stored for a long time. Paired with soup bouillon cubes, it was sold as a daily necessity, exclusively to the wealthy.

Vermicelli only appeared in the Ming and Qing dynasties; no similar food existed yet, but there was already "suo fen" (a kind of fine noodle), so substitute tools could be found. Zhu Mingli had previously planned to make rice noodles, but the plan was shelved due to busyness. During the idle days before the Double Ninth Festival, she had worked alongside the kitchen maid, processing mung beans and having a small-holed ladle made to extrude the vermicelli.

Modern instant food has two giants: instant noodles and vermicelli. She didn't make instant noodles because they required deep frying. Animal fat was expensive at the time; frying noodles would greatly increase costs. There would certainly be people willing to pay for noodle dishes made with animal fat, but after the initial novelty, sustained sales would be difficult.

So Zhu Mingli turned to vermicelli.

She put it into a bowl of hot water, added a prepared soup bouillon cube, covered it, and in a short time it was ready to eat.

The four children sat in a circle, smelling the aroma of the soup base, couldn't stop themselves from swallowing.